Neapolitan Dancer
by Daidairo
Summary: The job of a superhero seems simple at first: Defeat the bad guy, save the day, fly off into the sunset. But when Marinette finds herself facing a previously akumatized victim still struggling to deal with her emotions, and the aftermath of their battle, she realises that that alone may not be enough.
Ladybug stared in confusion at the jar of coconut oil that her Lucky Charm had called forth. How was it supposed to serve her in defeating the akumatized dancer before them? Her eyes narrowed as she scanned the scene before her: the Prima Ballerina, flitting en pointe, as she attempted to whip Chat Noir with the long ribbons hanging from her tambourine. Chat Noir's silver baton flashed and whirled, countering each strike she threw at him.

Ladybug smiled slightly at the sight of her partner valiantly defending her, buying her time to use her powers. He always did so willingly, without a single question, knowing that she would definitely figure out a way to save the day.

"My Lady! Isn't the intermission coming up yet?" Chat Noir called behind him.

 _Focus, Ladybug!_ Her eyes snapped from Prima Ballerina's pointe shoes to the granite pavement they stood upon. An idea lit in her mind.

"Chat Noir!" she yelled. "Move!" She lifted her arm and threw the jar at the ground beneath the Prima Ballerina's feet. Chat Noir leapt out of the way at her cry, and the glass shattered on the hard granite, spilling oil all over it. Losing her balance, the dancer fell forwards with a yelp, landing face first with a splat in the puddle of oil.

Ladybug swung her yoyo at the tambourine that had flown from her hand, smashing it into two. The akuma fluttered anxiously out and headed for the open skies, and before long, Ladybug had purified it, sent it on its way, and reverted everything back to normal with the help of the jar cap (it was all that was left).

Then it was over. Ladybug and Chat Noir did their traditional fist bump, then went on their way to find a quiet spot before they detransformed. It was how most of their battles with Hawkmoth's victims ended.

Most of them.

-

Marinette only noticed that something was wrong when she was preparing to head home from school a few days later. As she shut her locker door, she suddenly thought she heard muffled sounds of someone sobbing.

"Tikki? Do you hear that?" she whispered. Tikki popped her head out of Marinette's purse, listening.

"Someone's crying," she said. "Sounds like it's coming from behind there!"

Marinette crept cautiously around the rows of lockers until she saw a slim figure curled up in a ball, knees to her chest, sitting against one of them. She was dressed in a loose T-shirt and leggings, her dark hair tied in a ponytail. Next to her lay a sling bag, with several books spilling out of it. A quick glance told Marinette that they were books about the history of ballet in France. But what drew her attention was the feet of the girl, encased in a pair of strap sandals. Countless blisters across the toes, callused skin on the sides, two blackened toenails... It all looked exceedingly painful.

But they all looked to be at least a few days old, so the girl probably wasn't crying over her injured feet. Tentatively, Marinette bent down in front of her.

"H-hey. Are you all right?" she asked. The crying person raised her head from her crosssed arms, and Marinette gasped in surprise. It was Yvette LeClercq, a senior student at Françoise Dupont.

She was also Prima Ballerina.

"Yvette, is everything okay?" Marinette said hesitantly. As Marinette, she had never actually met the older girl before, and having a stranger talk to her while she was crying her heart out would probably feel awkward.

"I... yes. I'm fine, thank you." Yvette's voice was soft and timid. Her tearstained face creased into a slight smile. "Do I know you?"

"Oh! I uh... My name is Marinette! And... I saw the poster! About your recital. It had your photo on it, so that's how I recognised you!" Marinette babbled, smiling back nervously. Mr Damocles was very proud of his talented student, hailed by all her ballet teachers as a prodigy, so he had arranged for a few posters announcing her upcoming performance to be put up around the school.

At the mention of her recital, however, Yvette's face crumpled, and she buried it in her arms once more. Heartbreaking sobs racked her body, and Marinette sent a panicked glance at Tikki, who was peeking out of her purse.

 _What do I do?!_ she mouthed anxiously. Tikki pointed at Yvette, then mimed patting someone's back. Obediently, Marinette knelt down beside Yvette and put a hand gingerly on her back. When Yvette did not reject her touch, she slid her arm around her trembling shoulders. They sat like that for a while, until her cries had grown quieter. Tikki pushed a pack of tissues out of the purse, and Marinette offered it to her.

"Thank you very much. I'm sorry to cause you so much trouble," Yvette said, wiping her eyes. She blew her nose hard.

"It's all right. Would you like to talk about it?" Marinette asked. "I mean, it's okay if you don't, I fully understand if you don't want to say anything to someone you don't know very well, but... I think it helps, sometimes, just to talk it out? You know, get your problems off your chest, and all."

She stopped, berating herself inwardly for her bad habit of babbling each time she felt nervous or awkward. To her relief, Yvette smiled at her. Then she sighed.

"Around the beginning of this year, we had a small show at my ballet school. I was to dance the lead role in Swan Lake. At the dress rehearsal, during the part where I was supposed to enter, I... I messed up. I tripped and fell, knocking some of the others out of their formation. It was terrible."

"But that was just the dress rehearsal, right? Not the actual performance?" Marinette asked. Yvette shook her head.

"The actual performance on the following night was worse. I couldn't go on. I couldn't dance, and everyone was so angry."

"But what do you mean, you couldn't dance?"

"I just... couldn't. I couldn't go on stage to dance." Yvette shivered, rubbing her forearms. "Maybe I was scared I'd fall again. But ever since then, I've been so afraid of dancing in front of people. If it's just Madame, I'm all right, but the moment someone else is around I freeze up. Either I stop moving, or my muscles refuse to work and I trip and fall."

"You're worried that you might make mistakes?" Marinette said quietly.

"Yes. No. I don't know!" she sobbed. "They've been making fun of me these last few months, did you know? 'Yvette the Tripper', who always trips in the middle of a dance."

She laughed hollowly. "How can someone like that dance in a recital? How can you even call someone like that a dancer?"

Her voice broke, and she covered her face with shaking hands. Marinette squeezed her shoulder. She knew what it felt like to be nervous in front of people, to have her muscles lock up and refuse to obey her. It used to happen each time she went near Adrien, in fact.

But more than that, she knew exactly how it felt to be afraid of making mistakes. She knew how it felt to worry that she wasn't good enough, that she wasn't suitable for what she had been tasked to do. Memories from the not-so-distant past came to her now, and Marinette put her arms around Yvette, hugging her tightly.

 _This must have been why she was akumatized,_ Marinette thought sadly. Right on cue, Yvette brought the incident up.

"And then on top of that, Hawkmoth turned me into a villain and I had to fight against Ladybug!" Tears trickled down her cheeks again. "I don't remember much... But I recall clearly the moment when I fell. I could see all those faces of disappointment from the past flashing around me right then."

"Oh... dear." Marinette winced. "But Yvette, that wasn't your fault, it was the oil that Ladybug threw at you."

"It's not just that, Marinette. The fact is, I was taken over by Hawkmoth and became a supervillain," Yvette whispered. "I was weak. "And like... like a classmate said to me earlier today... A supervillain is not worthy of dancing ballet."

She sniffed, swallowed hard, then wiped her face with the grubby tissue she was still holding. Marinette sighed, feeling guilt hammering away inside her. True, she hadn't known then that Yvette was sensitive about falling, but undeniably, she had caused additional grief to the girl. She wished that she had defeated the Prima Ballerina using a different strategy.

In any case, as Tikki often said, there was no point regretting what had already happened. What she _could_ do now was to help Yvette get over her fear of dancing in front of people, and convince her to believe in herself. She _had_ to.

"You're not weak, Yvette," Marinette said determinedly. "We all have moments of weakness occasionally, but that doesn't make you weak. After all, you've worked really hard at your ballet, haven't you?"

Yvette nodded slowly. "It's all I ever wanted to do, since I started dancing when I was five," she said quietly.

"There must have been times when it was difficult, when your feet hurt, when it seemed like you weren't progressing as well as you should, right?" Marinette continued. "But in spite of that, you kept on dancing. In spite of these..." She pointed to Yvette's wounded feet. "You continued to dance. That shows how strong you really are, Yvette."

Yvette blinked away the tears welling up in her eyes again. "You... really think so?"

"Of course! Come, I'll prove it to you!" Marinette stood up and held out a hand. Yvette hesitated, then took it. She let herself be pulled to her feet, picked up her bag, and followed Marinette through the corridors of the school.

Tikki popped her head out of her purse. "Are you sure about this, Marinette?" she whispered.

"Ye- well, maybe not completely sure. But I have to try, Tikki," Marinette whispered back. "Stay hidden!" With her free hand, she took out her phone and sent off an urgent message to Alya. Hopefully her friend was still in school.

"Marinette, where are we go- oh." Yvette trailed off as they came to a stop in front of the dance and music studio. "I... can't. Marinette, I can't do it!"

"You can," Marinette insisted. She pushed open the door, and Yvette stared silently at her reflection in the mirrors lining the wall. "I know you can do it, Yvette. Just try it."

Yvette swallowed hard as she stared at Marinette's warm smile. "Okay, I'll try. Just... let me change quickly."

Trembling a little, she slipped into the dressing room attached to the studio. Marinette felt her phone vibrate, and she grinned as she took it out. Good old Alya.

-

"Whenever you're ready, okay?"

Yvette stood in the center of the room, facing the mirrors, dressed in her practice leotard and shoes, her dark hair pulled back into a bun at the top of her head. She took a deep breath, raised the tambourine in her right hand, and nodded. Then she began to dance.

Her movements were stiff at first, and her brows knitted each time she turned and saw Marinette standing there. But gradually, she began to relax. Shaking the tambourine, she glided forwards, then tapped the tambourine on her elbow and wrist. On her third cycle, Marinette was relieved to see a tense smile on her face. She clapped quietly, encouragingly, as Yvette finished the section with a few pirouettes.

Yvette moved with long, sweeping turns across the wooden floor, contrasting against the sharper movements that she had used before. Marinette admired how effortless she made the dance seem, though she had no doubt that it was difficult.

The door to the studio opened with a soft click, and Alya poked her head in. Marinette raised a finger to her lips, then beckoned, turning back to watch Yvette. Alya tiptoed in, followed by Nino, and, much to Marinette's surprise, Adrien.

What was he doing there? Alya had said that she was with Nino when Marinette messaged her, but she hadn't mentioned Adrien. Marinette shook her head slightly, telling herself to focus on Yvette, but she could not help noticing that the object of her affections was staring intently at Yvette as well, a mixture of worry and concentration upon his face, and she wondered why.

The tambourine rang out continuously as Yvette kicked her right leg up towards it. So concentrated was she on her dance that she did not seem to notice her audience until she moved into the pique turns near the end of the variation. Immediately, her eyes widened in fear, and as she leapt forward dramatically, she slipped...

And fell.

"Yvette!" Marinette rushed towards her. The dancer lay curled up on the floor, her face buried in her hands.

"It's no good, Marinette. I can't do it," she moaned. Marinette touched her shoulder.

"But you were dancing beautifully, before you noticed that they were there. You see, Yvette, you've already done it. You just have to believe in yourself!"

"Marinette's right." Adrien knelt down beside them. "If you begin by thinking that you can't dance, then you'll never be able to do it. But if you trust your training, and believe in the love you have for your ballet, then you can dance anything."

Marinette looked at him in admiration. Trust Adrien to know just the right thing to say, she thought.

Slowly, Yvette peeked at them from above her shivering hands. "...I... can?"

"Do you love ballet?" Marinette asked.

"Yes."

"Do you want to dance?"

"Yes."

"Then dance."

For the second time that day, she raised Yvette to her feet. Smiling at her, she whispered, "You can do it. I believe in you, so... Trust me. All right?"

Yvette took a deep breath. Then she nodded.

Suddenly, music rang out. They turned in surprise, and saw Adrien seated at the upright piano in the corner of the room. It was the famous Neapolitan Dance from Swan Lake, one of the dances that was listed on the posters as part of Yvette's repertoire for her recital. Adrien smiled warmly, and nodded.

"Go on, Yvette!" Alya said, beaming encouragingly.

"You can do it!" Nino gave her a thumbs up.

The staccato notes were bouncy and playful, and as the next cycle started, Yvette picked up her tambourine. Sauté arabesque, then a tap on the tambourine. Again, she was slightly tense when she began, her arms and legs not moving as smoothly as they should have been. As she spun in a pirouette, her eyes met Marinette's, and the latter smiled brightly, clenching her fists in an unvoiced 'you-can-do-it!' gesture.

Yvette lifted her head up, a look of determination on her face. She stretched her arms out and leapt across the the room in a series of graceful jumps, landing lightly but firmly each time. She faltered a little when she turned and saw her audience, but she bit her lip and kept going.

The music stopped, and started again on the next section, faster than before. Marinette gripped Alya's arm excitedly. The tension was gone from Yvette now; her body moved surely, with confidence, as she spun around in a promenade. There was so much strength and beauty in her as she danced, Marinette thought, touched by the genuine look of delight upon Yvette's face. Seeing her love for her art shining out of her every movement, and her expression of bliss and happiness, Marinette felt her own heart bubble over with joy.

The music rose towards the climax, Yvette spun through her final chaînés, and then she struck the tambourine with a flourish and came to a stop before them. Panting, she began to laugh as Marinette, Alya, Nino and Adrien applauded thunderously.

"You did it!" Marinette cheered, running to her. "You danced in front of us, and you didn't fall even once!"

"Wonderful job, Yvette!" Alya agreed, clapping hard still.

"As expected of the best ballerina our school has ever had!" Nino declared, snapping his fingers at her with a grin.

"Thank you. Thank you all so much," Yvette gasped breathlessly. Tears were welling in her eyes once more, but this time, they were filled with relief instead of disappointment. "It's all because of you guys!"

"No, it was you. It was always in you, Yvette, and now you know it," Adrien said.

"As long as your heart loves to dance," Marinette pressed one hand to her heart, and reached for Yvette's hand with the other, "you will always be a dancer."

Yvette threw her arms around her and hugged her tightly. She was still trembling, partly from exhaustion and partly from the emotional rollercoaster ride she had just experienced. Marinette patted her back soothingly, her face split into a wide grin. Adrien caught her eye over Yvette's shoulders, and he held up a fist.

It was so reminiscent of Chat Noir that Marinette laughed, forgetting to be nervous, and she gently gave him the fist bump he was requesting for.

"Bien joué!"

-

Later that day, Marinette and Tikki sat in her room, eating a plate of croissants that Tom had baked.

"You did well, Marinette," her kwami said, smiling happily.

"Oh, Tikki, I felt so guilty. It was partly Ladybug's fault that Yvette was so upset." Marinette lowered her half-eaten croissant, and sighed. "I thought I'd saved her when I defeated the akuma, but all I did was make her unhappy."

"That's not true, Marinette!" Tikki flew up to look her in the eyes. "You saved her today. Maybe you didn't do it as Ladybug, but you did it, nonetheless. Without you, she would still be feeling lost and unhappy.

"You are a superhero, Marinette, and you don't need to transform to help people. Your superpower... lies in here." Tikki flew down, and tapped her lightly on the left side of her chest.

Marinette smiled, feeling tears pricking her eyes. She lifted Tikki with her free hand, and kissed her lightly on the forehead.

"Thank you, Tikki, for always believing in me," she said.

"You're welcome. Now, let's eat, before the croissants become cold!"

Laughing, they spent the rest of the evening in peace and contentment.

-

Many thanks to Frozenleaf for being my editor; without her, this fic would be a complete mess ^^;

Yvette's first dance is referenced from Variations of La Esmeralda. I confess I am not a trained dancer, so if there are any terminology errors, I sincerely apologise.


End file.
